Angel With A Shotgun
by gingermoriarty
Summary: A short, fluffy Destiel


Dean held the shotgun tight, pressing the polished walnut stock against his shoulder. He took a deep breath and focused on the target, a full-sized human figure on the opposite side of the bunker's shooting range. He pulled the trigger, slow and smooth, and when the brief plume of smoke cleared, a series of small bullet holes gathered around the center of the chest bullseye. A small smile played across his lips and he turned to the man standing next to him.

"That, Cas, is how you shoot a shotgun."

Castiel nodded and held out his hands, into which Dean placed the shotgun. Cas stroked the barrel and smiled. "Funny."

Dean's eyebrows furled. "What?"

Cas held up the gun. "Winchester 1897 12-gauge pump-action shotgun," he stated. "Winchester. It's funny."

Dean smirked and stepped closer to the angel, placing his hand on the steel barrel.

"You ready?"

Cas nodded. Dean pushed the gun towards Cas' chest and let the angel hold it how he believed he should.

_He's beautiful._

Dean shook his head. _What? What did I just say? _He thought for a second, then blocked the thought out of his mind. _You are teaching this hopeless angel how to hunt. You need to focus._

Cas shifted his grip and took a breath. Dean noticed that he had the stock between his chest and his bicep, yet before he could correct him, Cas had pulled the trigger. The recoil pushed Cas backwards and made the barrel fly upwards, the buckshot hitting one of the lights mounted on the ceiling. The glass shattered and sparks exploded into the air, causing Dean to duck and shelter his head.

When Dean stood back up, the light above the target was hanging from its brackets and Cas was looking at Dean. "I assume that wasn't correct."

Dean looked at the angel, eyes wide. "Not quite." He took a breath to regain his composure and pushed the stock into the angel's shoulder. Dean's hand brushed the breast of Castiel's coat and he felt the muscle beneath it tense up. Dean moved it quickly and lowered his head to stare nervously at the ground. His cheeks grew warm as he felt the angel's eyes move from his hand to the back of his head as he walked to the back counter to take a drink of his beer. Castiel's eyes were burning holes in the back of his head.

"Dean…"

The righteous man ran his fingers through his hair and bit his lip.

_Do something._

_No._

Dean shut his eyes and took a breath. He spun around slowly and looked up at Cas. The angel's blue eyes met Dean's green ones and Castiel took a step towards him. Dean shrugged his shoulders nervously and nodded at the target. Cas nodded solemnly and turned, aiming the gun at the middle bullseye. He snuck a sideways glance at Dean, and pressed the stock against his shoulder. After an exasperated breath, he pulled the trigger. Dean followed the shot and saw it hit the target dead-center, making it undistinguishable from his own shot.

Cas smiled and turned to Dean, who was unable to conceal his grin. Cas set the shotgun down and walked to Dean, who was beaming like a proud father.

_Now._

_No._

Dean moved to hug Castiel. The angel became rigid, arms by his side and cheeks growing hot. Dean felt the angel become tense and he backed away, putting a hand on Cas' shoulder. Their eyes met again, this time holding the eye contact for what felt like forever. Cas' eyes narrowed and he moved forward ever so slightly. Everything that had been telling Dean no dissolved and he pushed forward, shutting his eyes and pressing his lips against the angel's softly. Dean's smooth lips fit Castiel's rough, chapped ones perfectly, and as he kissed him, he snaked the hand that had gripped the shoulder of the long, dirty trenchcoat around Cas' neck and the other around the angel's waist, pulling him closer.

Castiel moved a hand onto the back of Dean's head, toying with the short hairs trailing down his neck. Dean shivered and slowly moved his head away, opening his eyes. Cas waited a few seconds before smirking and opening his eyes slowly. Dean grinned.

Sam's thumping footprints drove the two apart quickly. Sam poked his head into the room and looked at his brother and the angel, both of whom were blushing profusely.

Sam smiled. "Dinner's ready, Dean, if you're hungry," he said, and when his brother looked up at him, he glanced at Cas, then back at Dean, and winked. Dean grew beet red and Sam had to hold back his laughter. He stepped back and disappeared down the hallway.

Dean looked at Cas, and Cas back at Dean, and they smiled. Dean leaned in and pecked his angel on the cheek, reaching out to hold his hand. Cas smiled and kissed Dean on the lips one more time before disappearing, the sound of flapping wings echoing through the concrete halls.


End file.
